Temper Temper
by zlinka
Summary: Gokudera needs a place to crash for a while and the only place available is with Hibari. Watch as sparks and tonfas fly.
1. Chapter 1

Gokudera had arrived at his small one room apartment shortly after walking the 10th home from school. Gokudera thought of it as practice, for when Tsuna became the official boss of the Vongola family. As it was, walking the 10th home was the only time that he got to spend Baseball idiot free with the boss, so he really looked forward to that time.

Carelessly he dropped his school bag in a heap by the door and flopped down on the mattress that was his bed. The mattress and a battered set of drawers were the only furniture to speak of in the entire place. He made sure that the 10th and the other guardians didn't know were he lived, so he didn't expect any company anytime soon, and he didn't have many things in the way of possession. Unless you counted his collection of books and magazines, which stacked quite well thank you very much.

Other then the Spartan décor, the place was great. It was above a small mom and pop convenience store that sold Gokudera a majority of his meals. There were several escape routes incase the shit hit the fan, and a great south facing patio for Gokudera to hang his laundry. It wasn't a glamorous as his childhood house, but it was miles above where he had been living before Reborn called him to Japan. Just another reason to be grateful that he had met the 10th.

He was deciding between starting homework or heading down stairs for a snack when there was a knock on the door. Gokudera was suspicious, because he wasn't expecting company or a package.

'If those fuckin' Mormons are trying to convert me again…' he trailed off, mostly because he was pretty sure that although the Mormons were dedicated, they weren't suicidal enough to return after what happened last time. Besides hadn't that guy promised to ban him from every Mormon Church in the world? The memory of how that had happened kept Gokudera warm at night.

So, probably not Mormons… Girl Scouts? They did make some awesome cookies, so Gokudera didn't want to scare them away.

Gokudera approached the door cautiously, although the thoughts of potential Girl Scout cookies made him want to rush. He was disappointed when he peeked out of the door and saw a middle aged man in a brown uniform instead of cookie bearing little girls in berets.

"I got a package for a Mr. Gokudera," the guy said unnecessarily. Gokudera could see the package with his name clearly printed on it. Impatiently he signed for the package and slammed the door closed. It was rude, but the guy didn't have cookies, so he didn't matter at the moment.

With package in hand Gokudera moved to the kitchen. He pressed he ear gently to the box, and was relieved when he didn't hear any ticking. That didn't mean that there wasn't a bomb in the box, but he had learned long ago to be extra cautious when dealing with unexpected packages.

He set the medium sized box in the sink and reached for one of his kitchen knives. Knives were not his specialty, but he knew how to use them and he kept them sharp. He couldn't be too cautious in the cut throat world of the mafia.

He knew that the 10th didn't share his attitude, but that's because the 10th had Reborn and Gokudera to protect him. Hopefully he would never have to adopt Gokudera's attitude. The same was true for Baseball Idiot with his retired assassin dad. Turfhead had Coronello living with him, so he could afford to be a carefree idiot too. The Stupid Cow was living with the 10th so he should be safe, if he didn't piss Reborn off too much. Even Chrome had back up if things got tricky.

In fact, of all the guardians, only himself and the bastard Hibari were alone. Gokudera also knew that between the two of them, he was the most vulnerable. A guy had to be fucking psycho to go after Hibari, which was something that Gokudera was never going to let the bastard know he thought. All in all Gokudera had a good reason for being as paranoid as he was.

Quickly and carefully he slit the top of the box and parted the flaps. The first thing he saw as he looked in the box was wires set in a familiar pattern around a cell phone. It would only take about 10 seconds to disarm the bomb, fucking amateur.

Just as Gokudera sneered at the bomb and reached for the wires to cut, the phone rang. In less then a second he had dropped the knife and was across the apartment, using the bathroom door as cover. He couldn't run outside because obviously his place was being watched. At least this way he would protect himself from the worst of the explosion.

The ringing stopped and there was a click. The silence before the expected explosion was deafening. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, making time stand still.

"BWUAHAHAHAHAH!!!" a voice called out from the living room. Gokudera sagged in relief; it was just someone's idea of a sick joke.

"When I find the sick son of a bitch I'm going to rip his spine out and beat him with it. Then I'm going to feed him some of Sis' cooking. Then I'm going to… Wait, is that hissing?"

Gokudera stopped his rant and started listening. Beneath the sound of borderline psychotic laughter was the faint wound of hissing. He couldn't smell anything, but the most effective aerial poisons were sometimes odorless… To be on the safe side he covered his nose and mouth with the collar of his shirt and peeked out of the bathroom.

There was a plume of yellowish grey smoke billowing out of the kitchen sink. It seemed to dissipate about a meter from the sink, but that didn't mean that whatever it was wasn't spreading throughout the room.

He needed to evacuate. The quickest thing for him to do was squeeze through the window in the bathroom. When he first moved into the place he had tried it out to make sure that he could use it as an escape route. It would be tight and graze his hips rather painfully, but he could fit. However if he did that he would be leaving behind his emergency kit, which held dynamite, tools for making dynamite, a prepaid cell phone, money, and a pack of cigarettes. At the moment the only thing he had on him was some dynamite and his school uniform… Better get that kit.

Unfortunately this meant taking precious seconds off his escape time and risking more exposure to the unidentified gas. It was a risk that he would have to take though, because he needed that shit to survive. If he survived escaping his apartment that was.

Which he would, otherwise he didn't deserve to be the 10th right hand man. Can't let Baseball Idiot take the position… With this resolve in mind he crawled across the floor to his kit, which was sitting innocently next to a pile of Amazing Creatures magazine. He barely glanced at his prize possessions as he slipped his kit over his shoulder and made his way to the south facing patio, which was opposite of the front door.

He was pretty sure that his place was being watched. People in the mob didn't like too much attention. And the package going off in the back of a mail truck was a sure fire way of getting too much attention. He just didn't know where they were and if they were still there. The back patio was the best bet for escaping, because there were bushes and shit that he could use for cover and it was close to an area that was usually pretty crowded this time of day. He could just jump down and lose his tracker, if there were any, among the masses.

He stood up, but stayed low, and crouch ran towards the back door. While he approached the sliding glass door he palmed a smoke balm. Once he crouched beside the door he nudged it open and tossed the bomb out onto the patio. It went off, causing him to see nothing but white, and he slid the door the rest of the way open. Although he couldn't see, he confidently took the two steps from the sliding door to the railing and leaped over the side.

He landed a little harder then he expected behind some bushes, then took off towards the sound of people. A small pinging sound coming from somewhere behind him had him picking up his pace. He really didn't want to be shot.

Once among people, he slowed down a little. Didn't want to draw too much attention to himself. He began weaving in and out of traffic. He went into stores and checked to see if someone was following him before going back out and ducking into another. He didn't stop this until he was about a kilometer from his place, and it seemed that no body had followed him.

He leaned against the closest building and let the remaining adrenaline rush through him. He had almost allowed himself to get soft from living here in Japan. Not many people knew about the 10th yet, so there weren't many attempts against the family. Looks like things were about to change…

Without taking his eyes off his surroundings he reached into his kit for the cell phone. From memory he dialed the number for emergency situations.

"Ciaossu," a high pitched voice greeted cheerfully.

"It's me," Gokudera said, "How is he?" He did not need to be named. He didn't want anyone eavesdropping to know the subject of this call.

"He's studying. Why?"

"I just got a strange package-," the sound on an explosion from several blocks away interrupted him. After a careful scan of the sky to make sure there weren't any fireworks he added, "I think my place was just blown up."

"I'll send someone over to confirm. We'll meet you at The Park in half an hour," the high pitched voice ordered, before abruptly hanging up.

There were many parks in the city, but there was only one park that was The Park. It was the park that was a few blocks away from the school. It was far enough away from the 10th's house so as not to attract attention to it, but close by enough so that they could meet easily. It was also exactly a half an hour away from his place by foot, so Gokudera needed to get moving now if he was going to make it on time.

'I hope Sis remembers to wear her goggles,' he thought. Stomach cramping was not on his to do list.


	2. Chapter 2

Hibari was annoyed. Somehow an herbivore had been allowed into his sanctuary. As a rule, no living creature was allowed to trespass, with the exception of Hibird. Hibird was the exception to many of Hibari's rules.

For example Hibird was allowed to touch Hibari's hair. If anyone else had tried such a thing, Hibari would have to bite them to death. Once Hibird woke Hibari up. Instead of instant death, the usual punishment for such a crime, Hibird received a stern glare and a meaningful snort. It had never happened again.

However there was a new exception to Hibari's rules, and he was not happy about it. Swift and painful death, or even slow and painful death, was not an option when dealing with this intruder. He wasn't certain how that option had been taken away. One moment he had been barely tolerating a gathering of herbivores that flocked to Sawada and the infant, the next moment he was promising that not only could the herbivore stay with him, but also not to cause permanent bodily harm. Death was about as permanent as you could get, although Hibari was sure that he could possibly argue that no harm was caused if it came down to it.

It was no wonder that although he got a full nights sleep, uninterrupted, that he still felt like destroying things. He didn't because while the destroying itself would be satisfying, the clean up afterward would be tedious and late for school. This was not allowed. He was law and order, being tardy was not an option.

He stalked his way through the halls of his apartment towards the kitchen in his boxers and a t-shirt. He never ate breakfast in his sacred uniform for fear that it would become stained. It was one thing for a stain to appear in the course of fulfilling his sacred duty. It was another thing entirely for it to be caused by instant miso and left over rice, his usual breakfast.

As he passed the room that the herbivore was staying in, he slammed his fist in the door as a wake up call. He was not going to be late because an undisciplined herbivore couldn't be bothered to wake up. There was no response. Hibari kept going, only vaguely aware of the sounds and smells of cooking coming from the kitchen.

It wasn't until he was in the kitchen doorway that he realized what the sounds and smells meant. There standing by the stove in his school pants and an undershirt stood the herbivore. He was scooping something from a steaming pot into two bowls that were balanced on his arm.

Idly Hibari noted that the bowls were probably hot, but considering that this herbivore used dynamite as a "weapon," it made since that he would have a tolerance for heat. The herbivore turned smoothly and gave a slight start when he made eye contact with Hibari. The content of the bowls sloshed about, but didn't spill over. Hibari was mildly impressed.

Oddly enough the herbivore didn't look scared, even though Hibari had managed to sneak up on him. Instead he looked embarrassed, as though he were doing something naughty. When Hibari saw what was in the bowl, he was suspicious that that was what had happened. It seemed to be full of grey lumpy paste, with bits of smaller black wrinkled things in it.

The herbivore set the bowls down, then himself. Before Hibari could join him the herbivore began to stir the paste with a spoon. Then he glanced at Hibari as though daring him to eat his concoction. Hibari sat and sniffed at the bowl before picking up a spoon. Apparently this was the go ahead for the herbivore because he began scooping the paste into his mouth with every indication that he was enjoying the experience.

"What's this?" Hibari demanded.

The herbivore swallowed before answering. "Breakfast." Hibari raised an eyebrow and waited for elaboration. "It's called oatmeal. Just eat it."

Hibari's nostrils widened. Nobody ordered him around. Not even Hibird. For the affront the herbivore deserved death. What he would get was a beating however, because Hibari kept his promises.

Before the herbivore could take another bite Hibari swung, tonfas already out. The herbivore dodged, his spoon clattering onto the table, bits of "oatmeal" scattering everywhere. The herbivore had improved since the last beating. Too bad it wasn't enough.

It took a grand total of 10 swipes, five of which connected, and a kick to the gut before the herbivore was on all fours, drool and blood spilling out of a gaping mouth. Hibari studied the herbivore as he rubbed his cheek, where a lucky punch got through. It was enough to sting, but not bruise. If it had bruised not even a promise would have kept the herbivore alive. As a reward for his tolerance, Hibari sat back down and viciously dug his heels into the herbivore's exposed back.

"Why?" Hibari demanded, stirring his "oat meal" ideally.

The herbivore glared at him, blood leaking from a small cut on his forehead. It was a good look for the herbivore, although Hibari was not about to say so.

"Because breakfast is the most important meal of the day," the herbivore spat before standing up slowly. Hibari could have kicked him back down, but he was feeling lazy and a little generous.

"Why cook?" Hibari elaborated. It was important to understand the motivation behind random acts of kindness. Because they could end up not being so kind in the end.

"It's an Italian thing," the herbivore shrugged, before picking up his discarded spoon and shoveling more "oat meal" into his mouth.

"The other Italian doesn't cook," Hibari accused.

"So you don't let your boyfriend, Bucking Horse, spend the night?" the herbivore laughed around a mouthful of paste.

Hibari glared, but refrained from beating the impudence out of the herbivore. Something told him that it was a less than effective training method. Instead he decided to change the subject before he changed his mind.

"Did you tell the infant about my debt?"

There was a pause because the herbivore had to swallow a particularly large mouthful of "oat meal" before answering. "Of course," he said in a highly sarcastic tone. "I also arranged for my apartment to blow sky high, because this is really just an elaborate conspiracy to get you all to myself." The herbivore flashed a manic, borderline psychotic, grin before returning completely to his regular, sullen self. "I didn't even know that you owed me. How the fuck could I have told Reborn something that I didn't even know about?"

After his speech there was a tense silence, broken only by the sound of the herbivore shoving obscenely large helpings of "oat meal" into his mouth. Having run out of excuses, and seeing that the herbivore hadn't died from his own cooking, Hibari took his first cautious bite of breakfast. It was alright, for non-Japanese food. The grey lumpy part was actually a little sweet without being overly so and the black wrinkly bits provided a little tang that was kind of pleasant. It was an above edible meal.

The breakfast maker, yes the herbivore had been promoted, finished his meal and rose to rinse his bowl in the sink. He also took the pot used to cook the food and began cleaning it. Once everything was cleared of left over food and set in the dishwasher, the breakfast maker left. Hibari didn't stop him, because he liked initiative in his underlings, just not too much.

Hibari took a few minutes to savor his breakfast in privacy before he got up to rinse his bowl. It wasn't the best breakfast he had ever eaten, but it was miles about instant miso and left over rice, so it warranted some time. Once the small chore of dishes was finished he went to his bedroom, where he changed into his freshly laundered and pressed uniform.

Then he gathered his school bag. Most students carried books and homework in their school bag. Hibari could not be troubled with such trivial things. Instead his bag was full of the essentials needed to carry it his sacred duty to the school. A spare uniform, his badge, and bird seed for Hibird. Once everything was packed away he grabbed his cell phone and shoved it in his pocket.

Once again he walked down the hall and while passing the breakfast maker's room, he pounded on the door. "We're leaving," Hibari ordered, while walking to the front door.

"Okay," the breakfast maker's voice floated up from behind him. There was no sound of someone coming to heel. Hibari glanced behind him and saw that the hall was just as empty as it had been before. Hibari decided to give the breakfast maker 10 seconds before he went after him.

'10… 9… 8… Alright that's long enough.'

Hibari stalked back up the hallway and slammed the door of the breakfast maker's room open. It was empty. The guest futon was folded neatly in a corner, next to that sat the breakfast maker's overnight bag, and next to the door was a school bag, ready to go. Why was the breakfast maker not like his school bag?

Hibari strained his ears to hear the location of the breakfast maker. The only sound in the whole apartment, besides his and Hibird's breathing, was the sound of running water… Breakfast maker was in the bathing room.

The door to the bathing room crashed against the wall thanks to a well placed kick. "Now Breakfast Maker," Hibari growled out. The breakfast maker just stood there, naked, with only a washcloth to protect his modesty. Apparently he had been cleaning out some injuries on his chest, because the washcloth had pink stains on it.

"Breakfast Maker?" the breakfast maker shrieked. "No fucking way! Why couldn't you have come up with a less gay nick name? Like, I don't know, Cock Sucker? What the fuck?"

"If you are not dressed in the next 10 seconds I am dragging you as you are to school," Hibari informed the breakfast maker, completely ignoring the way the water ran over intriguingly pale skin and ropey muscles.

Apparently the breakfast maker had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, because instead of immediately complying, he leisurely reached for a towel and started to dry himself off. Grumbling about antisocial freaks and voyeurism.

"10…" Hibari started, just to show the breakfast maker how serious he was. "9… 8…" the breakfast maker's pace sped up a little and he started reaching for the clothes that were neatly folded on the other side of the room. "7… 6… 5…" one leg was thrust into the boxers the breakfast maker had been wearing that morning. "4… 3… 2…" the other leg was thrust in and the boxers were raised to his hips. "One!" Hibari shouted before grabbing the breakfast maker by his hair and stalking to the front door.

There was resistance on the breakfast maker's part, but that seemed to be only to grab the rest of his uniform. Assured of the breakfast maker's compliance, Hibari didn't loosen his grip, even when the breakfast maker struggled again in an attempt to grab his school bag.

At the front door Hibari paused. He felt something long and cylindrical being put up his sleeve. There was also the faint sound of hissing. It was almost too late by the time Hibari remembered that the breakfast maker's proffered "weapon" was dynamite, which he hid all over his body and clothes. Although how he missed seeing the dynamite in the bathing room was a mystery to Hibari.

Deftly Hibari switched the hand that gripped the breakfast maker's silver hair. With a flick of the original wrist the hissing dynamite fell into his palm. Casually, as though he put dynamite out every day he pinched the wick, only to hear more hissing.

There was another stick of dynamite. This time it was in his other sleeve. Hibari sighed and repeated the hand exchange, knowing full well that he would end up with yet another stick of dynamite in his sleeve.

"I can do this all day," the breakfast maker smirked. "So how about you stop wasting time and let me get dressed?"

"How about I bite you to death and drag your body to school?" Hibari asked, putting out yet another stick of dynamite.

"That'll take too long. You'll be late."

Reluctantly Hibari released the breakfast maker's hair. When the breakfast maker started turning away to return to his room, Hibari stopped him. It only took a hand on the shoulder, but the answering glare told Hibari that the breakfast maker understood his message.

With an efficiency that Hibari almost admired, the breakfast maker unfolded his uniform and began dressing. Hibari had just enough patients to wait for pants, socks, and shirt to be put on before he grabbed the herbivore by the hair again and left the house. The breakfast maker's curses were oddly satisfying.


	3. Chapter 3

Gokudera was feeling rather conflicted. To some extent he felt that he should be proud. After all he had managed to get some clothes on before being dragged to school by his hair. I beat being dragged to school by his hair in only a pair of boxers any day.

However being dragged to school by his hair in any state of dress was not something he wanted young children and their mothers to witness. Hibari happened to live near an elementary school, which he didn't mention the night before. If he had Gokudera would have taken that into consideration while calculating the damage his pride would take while living with Hibari.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched mother's whisper back and forth to each other from behind their hands. They were probably all talking about the poor Italian boy with the S and M fetish. That was a little more than he wanted to deal with this early in the morning.

Once the school was out of sight, and the number of witnesses was greatly reduced Gokudera decided to make his move. Ignoring the pain and the possible baldness that was sure to happen, Gokudera stopped moving and started standing to his full 168 cm height. Hibari tugged his head back down, or he tried to. Gokudera had to grit his teeth at the sensation of hair being pulled out of his scalp by the roots, but he didn't budge or cry out.

"Breakfast Maker," the bastard smirked when he said the "title." There was no humor in the smirk however. Only the promise that if Gokudera didn't start behaving things would become unpleasant for him.

"Let go," Gokudera gritted out. His voice was a little softer than he would have liked, but there wasn't even the hint of tears in his voice, which cheered him up.

Hibari watched him impassively, obviously waiting for Gokudera to crack. That wasn't going to happen. His pride had taken all the humiliation it could in one morning. He was not going to let his psy-

Hibari yanked Gokudera's head down as he brought his knee up. Gokudera's face exploded with pain when the two met. It felt as though his face had been split open and had fire ants poured inside. Definitely a feeling that he had hoped to avoid.

Oddly enough Gokudera was glad that Hibari was holding on to his hair, otherwise he would have fallen on his ass, making today officially the third worst day or his life, and it was just beginning.

Predictably, if you were a sadist, Hibari released his grip on Gokudera's hair as soon as those thoughts crossed his mind. Gokudera stumbled, but didn't fall. Hibari seemed disappointed, because vaguely, through the ringing in Gokudera's ears he heard the bastard scoff.

"What's your problem, psycho?" Gokudera demanded, stumbling in the general direction of the school and consequently said psycho.

"Promise or no promise, if you make me late, I will bite you to death," was the rather serene answer from Hibari, whose back was already turned away from Gokudera.

A masochistic or possibly suicidal part of Gokudera had him snorting, "Like you even could." However the survival instincts that had served him well over his career as a Family member took over his motor functions and made him walk past Hibari, defying the prefect to find fault with his punctuality.

Gokudera forced himself not to run away, screaming in terror at what he had just done. He must be insane, purposefully ticking Hibari off, then showing his back to him. Although he expected a tonfa to the back of the head, he forced his body language to remain loose. There was no way that he was going to let Hibari know just how scared he was. He was vaguely proud of himself for not curling into the fetal position when Hibari moved past him, bumping shoulders with more force than necessary.

Was it his imagination or was Hibari smirking at him?

The rest of the walk to school was done completely upright and mostly silent. The only noise came from Hibird, who was happily chirping the school's anthem. From what Gokudera could tell, the song seemed to put Hibari in a zen like state, where as before he had only been in a fucking pissed like state. It was rather interesting to watch. Gokudera had never seen the other guy looking so relaxed.

Briefly Gokudera considered the tactical advantage of breaking out the school's anthem mid confrontation, but then threw the idea away because it would be a pansy ass move. Gokudera was definitely not a pansy ass, no matter what Turf Head said.

Besides the anthem, and all "fight songs" really, were an affront to music. During school assemblies and ceremonies that he couldn't escape it was all Gokudera could to not to shove his precious cigarettes in his ears. It was down right criminal the way the school band got away with ear rape. And now the fucking bird was getting away with it too!

The school gates appeared on the horizon. Immediately Gokudera searched for The 10th, Baseball Idiot, or Turf Head. He was just that desperate to get away from Hibari and the ear rape.

Due to the nature of the arrangement, Gokudera was not allowed out of Hibari's house without being accompanied by a Guardian (excluding Stupid Cow). Seeing as how only Hibari, Reborn, and now Gokudera knew where Hibari lived, that meant that a majority of his time would be spent with Hibari. Gokudera needed to get away from the psycho whenever possible if he wanted to keep his sanity and body in relatively healthy conditions. Both of which were pretty banged up before he had started bunking with Hibari.

"Breakfast Maker," Hibari said softly, distracting Gokudera from his search.

"Don't call me that!" Gokudera snarled, turning back towards his "roommate."

"Once we reach the school I will be busy maintaining order-"

"A.K.A. Assault," Gokudera muttered.

"If you get in my way," Hibari continued as though he hadn't heard Gokudera, even though he really had, "It will not end well for you."

"What? You'll bite me to death?" Gokudera asked sarcastically.

"I promised the infant that you would survive your stay with me," Hibari reminded him. "But you would be surprised at what you can survive," he added almost pleasantly.

"Of course I'd survive," Gokudera said conversationally, "I promised myself that I wouldn't die until I killed you."

Hibari laughed, the bastard, "Then I hope you enjoy your immortality."

Gokudera would have responded explosively (literally) if he hadn't seen The 10th and remembered his other promise to himself. He wasn't going to worry The 10th any more than necessary while all of this was going on. That meant that he had to play nice with Hibari when The 10th was around.

"Hey look, there's the 10th! Guess our quality time together is over," Gokudera said with false cheerfulness as he waved to The 10th, who wasn't looking at him but that didn't matter, "See ya!"

"Stop," Hibari ordered.

Only because The 10th was in the vicinity did he listen. If the 10th wasn't around Gokudera would have kept going, damned the consequences. Instead he grit his teeth and turned around slowly.

"Yes?" he asked although what he really wanted to do was ask , "What the fuck?" Unfortunately The 10th was within ear shot, so Gokudera had to contain himself.

"Do you have plans for after school?"

"Why? You asking me for a date?"

"I will meet you at your classroom once school ends. You will stay in the classroom all day unless accompanied by Yamamoto or Sawada," Hibari instructed, then turned and stalked away.

Who did he think he was talking to? Gokudera was the son of a mafia boss, even though he didn't like to admit that. He had lived the first eight years of his life surrounded by body guards Of course he knew the drill. It just pissed him off that he needed them now. He was The 10th's right hand man! He shouldn't need a fucking babysitter!

Except everyone, including The 10th, said that he did. More than likely this wasn't a direct attack on him. Who would want to kill him after all? His death wasn't important enough to warrant as more than a warning to The 10th. But he couldn't say that. Not when everyone was looking at him with those worried expressions (excluding Stupid Cow again). Not when he knew that the only person who would even understand that kind of reasoning was piggybacking on the mind of a little girl because he had been thrown in jail for slaughtering countless people.

Well that last part was a lie. For sure Reborn understood what was going on. He would leave it to Reborn to teach The 10th the cold hard facts about the value the Guardians had. It was also probable that Hibari himself understood what was going on. He had said it himself countless times, Gokudera wasn't worth killing.

Bastard.

Everything was going smoothly. Baseball Idiot wasn't half as annoying as he usually was, and Gokudera's plan not to worry The 10th anymore than he had to was working out great. Until five minutes after class started and he realized that he had to pee.

It wasn't urgent, but there wouldn't be a break for another 45 minutes. By then it could be too late. The teacher would be a dick though. The rule for this teacher was that no one could leave the class unless it was an emergency. Gokudera would probably be able to go to the bathroom, but The 10th or Baseball Idiot wouldn't be able to accompany him.

Not that he needed someone to hold his hand while he peed. But he did promise that he wouldn't be alone when he wasn't at Hibari's house. If he didn't plan on worrying The 10th, he would just have to wait it out.

For the first time since moving to Japan, Gokudera payed attention in class. Or at least he tried to. It was just so boring... He knew all this already! It was easy! What was wrong with these people were they all stupid? The 10th aside of course.

'It's because I'm in the same class as Baseball Idiot,' Gokudera thought, glaring back at the daydreaming youth. Just look at him, staring off into space. Probably thinking about baseball. Not even the caring that he was the reason that everyone was forced to listen to a pointless lecture about stupid shit...

"Mr. Gokudera," the teacher interrupted him mid mental rant. "Perhaps you could answer question 3 on page 56 in the workbook."

Many a teacher had tried this very method on him. Trying to embarrass him into pretending to pay attention to pointless crap. When would they learn?

Disdainfully Gokudera glanced down at the problem. "X=-9y^3," he answered lazily.

The teacher was unfazed apparently, because instead of gaping and blustering, he handed Gokudera a piece of chalk, "Care to share with the rest of the class how you got that answer?" he asked gesturing towards the board.

This was new...

Carelessly Gokudera shrugged and stood up. Big mistake. What had started out 15 minutes ago as a mild warning was now an urgent demand. It took almost all of Gokudera's control not to grab his crotch in a desperate attempt to stem the flow. Instead he settled for biting his lip in an attempt to distract his bladder. It worked a little, making the pressure lessen a little, but he knew that if he were to stand for too long he wouldn't make it to the break. Better make this quick.

He wrote the problem on the board, unsolved and turned back to the class. "Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally," he said cryptically before doing the first step of the problem.

"Parenthesizes," he explained, demonstrating on the board. "Exponents. Multiplication. Division. Addition. Subtraction. Use these to isolate X on one side of the equals sign in that order. Any questions?" he demanded, glaring at the students. No one raised their hand.

His victory was short lived. The second he sat back down his bladder went into over time. Reminding him rather urgently that it was full. He glared at the clock when he noticed that there was still 25 minutes until the break. Plus now the teacher was even less likely to allow Gokudera to use the facilities, let alone take a buddy with him.

Fuck!

To distract himself he started writing notes to himself in G-script. Most of them revolved around killing Hibari and working hard to be The 10th's right hand man.

It wasn't working. Most of his plans for killing Hibari started to involve water. Such as punting him over Niagara Falls. Not only was it unlikely that he would be traveling with Hibari to America or Canada, but the thought that Hibari would be so easily punted was laughable. Besides Gokudera wouldn't allow some punk ass waterfall to kill him, why would Hibari be any different.

The door to the classroom slid open and Turf Head stuck his head in. "OI Shuku _sensei_!" the oaf shouted excitedly. "I extremely need-"

"ME!" Gokudera shouted desperately. Turf Head looked confused, but Gokudera wasn't going to allow him to ruin this for him. He stood, leaving his school stuff at his desk, and practically ran to the door.

"Mr. Gokudera," the teacher said, in an attempt to stop him. Gokudera just ignored this. He could always say that he didn't hear the teacher later. As it was he was a little surprised that he had heard anything. It felt like his whole body was filled with piss.

"Let's go," he ground out through his teeth, grabbing Turf Head by his dangling tie and dragging him off towards the nearest bathroom.

"Wha-?!?" the idiot tried to protest. His silence didn't last long once they reached the bathroom, unfortunately. "OI Squid Head! What's with dragging me off to the bathroom like that?!?"

"I can't be alone," Gokudera tried explaining as he unzipped his pants and gratefully stepped up to the urinal.

"Dude! You need someone to hold your hand while you pee?!?" through out the whole conversation Turf Head's voice grew louder and louder. "That's EXTREMELY GAY!!!" This last sentence was shouted at such a volume that it echoed through the bathroom, shaking the hanging light fixtures. Gokudera just knew that those words had echoed out into the hallway, down the hall, into the class room, and strait into The 10th's ear.

Gokudera froze mid-piss in horror at the thought. Now the whole school and, more importantly, The 10th was going to think that he was gay for Turf Head. No fucking way!

"Hey Shit for Brains! How would you like it if I beat you to death with your own arms?" Gokudera snarled after he unfroze and finished pissing. Briskly he zipped up, washed his hands, and dried them off on his pants, because he left his hand kerchief at his desk.* "Now, let's go back to class, so you can pick up whoever you needed, and pretend that you did not just open your fucking mouth."

Gokudera swung the door open only to stop abruptly or run into a glaring Hibari. The prefect took one look at the two and smirked evilly. "I heard the phrase "extremely gay" and just knew that it was being directed at you, Breakfast Maker," Hibari chuckled softly.

"F-fuck you!" Gokudera shouted, knowing that it wasn't the best come back considering the situation. Hibari just chuckled more.

Turf Head, with his infinite ability to make a bad situation worse decided that he should say something. "You're called 'BREAKFAST MAKER?' That's EXTREMELY GAYER!"

This time Gokudera was standing in the hall, so he saw all the students swarm to the doors of their class rooms in order to witness the extreme gayness first hand. Gokudera slapped his forehead into his palm and tried to keep from dying of mortification. It worked, just barely.

Slowly he turned towards Turf Head, smiling brightly and cracking my knuckles. However the bastard Hibari was faster. While everyone was watching he neatly stepped forward, raised a tonfa and backhanded the idiot so hard he went flying back into the empty restroom. Then he glared at all the gawkers.

"I see crowding," he said ominously. The halls were empty. If it weren't for the comical dust clouds and fluttering pieces of paper, there wouldn't be any hints that a large group of people had just witnessed the most embarrassing incident of Gokudera's life.


	4. Chapter 4

Hibari hated the situation he was in. Normally what he hated was swiftly and painfully bitten to death, however the very cause of the situation was _that _person. The person that he had promised to love, honor, and protect.

Sometimes he questioned the validity of that promise, after all until recently the only love of his life had been the welcoming, all encompassing Namimori Middle School. He must have been temporarily insane to make such a promise to that person. But all he had to do was look into those stormy eyes or hear that husky voice to know that any insanity on Hibari's part was anything but temporary.

None of that mattered now. What mattered was that person not being by his side. Instead Hibari was surrounded by nameless, faceless, and above all mindless herbivores droning on about unimportant things!

He was past annoyed. These herbivores were deliberately separating him from that person. His temper snapped, but surprisingly he didn't rain down tonfa vengeance upon them. Instead he stood abruptly, surprising Herbivore B into stuttering silence and demanded, "Where is he?" The question was directed at no one in particular. It didn't matter. He would get answers.

"W-who?" Herbivore C asked cautiously.

"My B-" Hibari started to answer, but was interrupted by a kick to the head.

Hibari went from a light doze to instantly alert. He didn't blink in confusion or swipe at his eyes or do any of the other things that is expected of someone being forcibly removed from Dreamland.

"Ciaossu," The Infant greeted cheerfully. Hibari raised an eyebrow, but didn't give into the sudden urge to take a swing at the tiny hit man. The Infant was dangerous. "How's your guest?"

Hibari knew that the question was deliberately asked in a deceptively casual way. So he chose to answer, "He lives," in a deceptively flippant way. Now that all the deception was out of the way, they could move on to the important issues. Like why the infant felt the need to interrupt Hibari's precious sleep.

The infant must have been a mind reader, because before Hibari could so much as open his mouth, he got his answer. "Keep Gokudera busy after school."

"Oh?" Hibari hummed. He wanted more information, but that was not likely to happen. The infants face was blank as always. "I suppose by 'busy' you mean away from Sawada..." Hibari mused, wondering what he was supposed to do with the Breakfast Maker and for how long.

A picture of his surprised wet face flashed into his mind from this morning, before disappearing again. However Hibari didn't have time to follow that thought or even decide if it was a good one or not.

"Of course," the infant answered. "Until we can ascertain the enemies target we have to protect Tsuna," although the smirk the infant wore belayed his words. Hibari could see the abuse in store for the younger herbivore.

"I see," Hibari answered, smirking back. Hibari had seen or heard of some of the situations the infant got Sawada into in the name of training. He was sure that the infant was planning to use the situation with the Breakfast Maker to further his own sadistic agenda.

'There is much I can learn from The Infant,' Hibari thought as he plotted ways to keep himself and the Breakfast Maker entertained after school. Once The Infant left, Hibari indulged in a quiet but almost evil chuckle.

However all his planning was wasted when the Breakfast Maker approached him willingly after school. Hibari was a little disappointed because he was looking forward to the brief and futile struggle of the Breakfast Maker.

Instead he got a curt, "I need some new clothes and you need some new food." Hibari wanted to beat the Breakfast Maker for his impudence, but he was just stating facts. It was true that the Breakfast Maker needed clothes. All he had to wear was what he was wearing when his apartment exploded. Hibari wasn't too sure about the state of food though. He rarely concerned himself with things like that.

Hibari grunted his acknowledgment of the statement, then turned to survey the heard of herbivores all contentedly making their way towards the front doors and out of his precious school. He would leave those herbivores who participated in clubs and sports to his underlings.

He had a mission to accomplish. Which was to keep his Breakfast Maker away from Sawada. First they would go shopping for clothing appropriate to his Breakfast Maker's new status. Part of him wanted to sneak an apron into the mix. A pink and frilly apron for Hibari's eyes only.

It wasn't until he saw a clear picture of his Breakfast Maker at the stove, wearing only said apron as he smoked a cigarette and cursed at whatever food he was preparing, that he began to question his thinking.

Had Hibari really thought of him "his Breakfast Maker?" Had he just had an apron fantasy about his Breakfast Maker? A bad one at that? Who wanted a chain smoking, foul mouthed, short tempered herbivore in an apron? Shouldn't he have imagined a sweet, even tempered, person who called him Hibari-sama instead?

Hibari glared at his Breakfast Maker, who glared right back. Principle demanded that his Breakfast Maker pay for his crime, but Hibari wasn't exactly sure what the crime was. It was not illegal to be naked in a bath. It wasn't illegal to stand up for yourself, even though with Hibari it wasn't exactly advisable, and it definitely wasn't illegal to be the object of a fantasy, no matter how unwillingly the fantasy was indulged in.

In short it was all his Breakfast Maker's fault, but Hibari couldn't discipline him for what happened. Hibari added a growl to his glare, which caused his Breakfast Maker's glare to turn quizzical before returning to apathetic hostility.

"What?"

Instead of answering the question, almost a challenge if you were to ask Hibari, Hibari grunted and started moving towards the shoe lockers. He didn't look behind him, but he assumed that his Breakfast Maker gave a shrug and followed. Probably with a what the fuck look on his face.

Hibari paused about 5 feet from his Breakfast Maker's locker, giving him time to changed into his outdoor shoes. Hibari heard the flap squeak open. There was some mild cursing from his Breakfast Maker, then the sound of paper being crumpled and shoes being viciously pulled out of the cubby.

"Fucking stalkers," he grumbled. "Who said they could use my first name? Why don't they just leave me the fuck alone? It's always, 'Gokudera-kun, do you want to go out?'" this last sentence was said in a high pitched, annoying voice, "'Gokudera-sama, try these cookies I baked just for you. Gokudera-kun, can you give this letter to Baseball Idiot because you're such good friends?' Pah!" he growled, shoving something into his school bag with a vengeance.

"Problem's Breakfast Maker?" Hibari smirked. This was how he liked to see his Breakfast Maker. Angry at the world. There was just such a nice feeling when the air was filled with his killing intent.

"Bite me!" was the response given to him. Hibari almost smiled before quickly invading his Breakfast Maker's personal space. Hibari gave credit to the Breakfast Maker because the only indication that he was uncomfortable was that the blinked. Normally when Hibari did something like this the herbivore backed away and some even cried a little.

Just went to show that his Breakfast Maker deserved the promotion that he was given this morning. If things continued like this Hibari may use his Breakfast Maker's given name, whatever that was.

"That was an ill advised choice of words," Hibari murmured softly. It was always best not to raise your voice during these situations. Gently but firmly he cupped his Breakfast Maker's chin and raised his head so that their eyes met. "Perhaps you want to reconsider them?"

His Breakfast Maker was glaring. He wasn't going to back down even though his breathing was irregular and his heart was beating faster. Hibari was fascinated to see a blush making his way from his Breakfast Maker's collar up his neck and over his cheeks. He had never seen anything like it before. Usually it was reversed, where Hibari's victims slowly lost all color in their face.

"F-fuck you!" his Breakfast Maker hissed out between clenched teeth.

Hibari chuckled, "My my, so forward." Hibari brought his face closer to his Breakfast Maker, unsure if he was going to reward his Breakfast Maker's audacity with a gentle nibble or punish it with a savage bite. Either way Hibari would get his pleasure.

The flush that adorned his Breakfast Maker's cheeks rapidly faded and changed to a sickly green shade as his eyes focused on something behind Hibari's left shoulder. The sound of stomach muscles contorting in ways that they were not designed to echoed through the halls.

"S-sis," his Breakfast Maker gasped before kneeling down and face planting.

Hibari was rather confused. In all his experience with intimidation and maintaining order he had never had an herbivore react like this to his tactics. Sure, some called for their mommy and others fainted and more still did both, however none had turned that particular shade of green. Or for that matter called Hibari "Sis." Was it some kind of safety word?

That battle cry of "Poison Cooking," was the only warning Hibari got before a cake like substance hit the wall in the area his head used to be and began to melt it. The noxious fumes coming out of the cake were a little distracting. Because of this his tonfas came out almost too late to save him from a face full of what appeared to be neon soba noodles with maggots crawling across them.

Hibari's eyed the pink haired foreigner as she wielded the plate with a deadly skill. Although they were both twisting and dodging through the halls of his precious school, not a drop of the food like substance left the plate in her hands. She was determined to make this encounter up close and personal.

"What is this about?" he demanded as he dodged another of her lunges. In the back of his mind he knew that he had to return to his Breakfast Maker, who was probably still lying on the floor flat on his face.

"You attack Hayato and you have the audacity to ask questions?" the foreigner demanded.

Hibari almost asked who the woman was talking about. He didn't know anyone who went by the name of Hayato. But he was a little preoccupied by the fact that out of no where she produced chop sticks and began gathering noodles to use as a whip. A drop of sauce landed on his jacket sleeve. The consequent hissing sound and new hole in the fabric sealed the woman's fate. Now he was no longer mildly amused, he was annoyed.

Hibari began the attack. It wasn't as easy as he would have liked, but he finally disarmed her. They seemed to have reached a stalemate, but only because Hibari was allowing her some dignity, not because she was too much for him to beat.

"Explain yourself," he panted.

At first she glared at him, and oddly enough Hibari was reminded of his Breakfast Maker, but then the glare turned into a rueful smile. "So, Reborn was right about you, Hibari Kyouya."

Who did this woman think she was using his name so familiarly? Before he could demand answers she continued.

"I'm Bianchi, Hayato's older sister. Reborn informed me that someone had made an attempt on Hayato's life. I wanted to make sure that he was properly protected. I made cookies to show my appreciation," she added, handing him a bag with an ominous aura around it. Something told Hibari that this was a trap.

Hibari just nodded before putting the "cookies" in the pocket of his jacket. The woman smiled mysteriously before turning her back on Hibari. Again something told Hibari that it was a trap. No woman with her obvious fighting skills left an opening like that. Instead Hibari walked past her, the sleeve of his jacket brushing across her arm as he passed. He needed to retrieve his Breakfast Maker.

"One more thing," the woman said from behind Hibari. "Tell Hayato that I need to speak with him about something important. It's about Father."

Hibari narrowed his eyes and suppressed the urge to tell her to tell him herself. Did Hibari look like a messenger? Instead he nodded sharply and continued walking away.

He found his Breakfast Maker where he left him. Passed out on the floor. What was that woman's power that she could render his Breakfast Maker senseless just by her mere presence? Of course Hibari much preferred the look of futile rage that crossed his Breakfast Maker's face to the horrible grimace of remembered pain that he was wearing now.

Gently Hibari kicked his Breakfast Maker in the ribs. They needed to get going. His Breakfast Maker needed some more clothes and apparently they needed food. This was not the time to be lazing about.

When all Hibari got for his troubles was a grunt, he kicked again. On the third kick, before it could connect, his Breakfast Maker grabbed his ankle.

"Kick me one more time and I'll stick dynamite down your pants," he wheezed, struggling to stand up.

"Promises promises," Hibari chuckled as he waited patiently for his Breakfast Maker to stand fully. Once that happened he began walking. His Breakfast Maker hobbled after him.

Hibari took the opportunity to consider what was wrong with him while they walked, or in his Breakfast Maker's case hobble, from the school to the shopping district. Yet again he had noticed that he was thinking about the herbivore behind him in a possessive manner. The herbivore was no long just the Breakfast Maker. Now he was _his_ Breakfast Maker.

Oddly enough, Hibari was okay with that. He was even okay with the messed up apron fantasy that he had indulged in earlier. He had always been attracted to strength, which even though it wasn't as great as his own, his Breakfast Maker had. He also liked that his Breakfast Maker wasn't afraid of him. Anyone who was brave enough, or dumb enough, to invite Hibari to bite them was worth noticing.

Hibari remembered the message that he was supposed to give to "Hayato." From what the woman said, "Hayato" was most likely his Breakfast Maker. Just to be on the safe side he decided to test this.

"That woman..." Hibari started.

"Did Sis try to feed you? Did she give you any food?" his Breakfast Maker was surprisingly fast just then. He had started out several feet behind Hibari, then suddenly he was in Hibari's face, patting his hands across Hibari's chest and stomach and rummaging through his pockets.

Much to Hibari's annoyance he found himself blushing at the close proximity. No body willingly got close to Hibari unless they were trying to attack him. Admittedly his Breakfast Maker was being a little rougher than Hibari would have liked, but there was no danger in the other boys actions. Just urgency.

"Ah ha!" his Breakfast Maker crowed triumphantly when his hand came in contact with the bag that held the "cookies." "Seriously, I thought you had better survival instincts than this. She's called Poison Scorpion Bianchi for god's sake and she shouts "poison cooking!" whenever she attacks people! Shouldn't that tip you off? I mean look at this bag," during his rant his Breakfast Maker waved the bag of "cookies" in Hibari's face. "This isn't even her trying to kill you. This is just her lousy cooking. If you asked her what was in it she would probably tell you that the only important ingredient when cooking is _love_," this last bit was said with a sneer.

Hibari could tell that this would last a long time if he didn't stop it. To do so he snatched the bag out of the flailing hand and crushed it. There was a faint tingling on his palms and a cloud of purply yellow gas formed above the bag. The look his Breakfast Maker was giving him told him that he did something extremely foolish.

Cautiously his Breakfast Maker retrieved the crushed bag and stored in his school bag.

"I'm takin' you to Shamal," his Breakfast Maker stated, before grabbing Hibari's wrist and leading the way. Hibari decided that as long as there was skin contact, he would be okay with where ever his Breakfast Maker wanted to take him. It was rather nice being manhandled for a change.


	5. Chapter 5

Gokudera knew that there was something wrong with Hibari the second he was allowed to lead the psycho around. Usually a suicidal move like this was rewarded with death or at least something close enough to simulate death. In fact Gokudera was greatly surprised by the fact that he still had all his teeth after pulling the stunt.

Under normal circumstances he would never presume to touch Hibari, unless he needed to defend himself. However these were not normal circumstances. When it came to Sis' cooking, he didn't care who it was, no one deserved that.

Except maybe that Prince bitch from Varia, he was a fucktard if Gokudera had ever seen one... And maybe the Stupid Cow, just not the lethal stuff. But those two didn't count. Besides Hibari hadn't done anything to annoy him lately...

'Why is there a blank spot in my memory where math class should be?' he wondered idly. Almost immediately he dismissed this concern. If it was important he would have remembered it.

Now, how to con that quack into treating Hibari? He only treated girls, and although Hibari was really pale and soft spoken, he definitely wasn't a girl. Not that Gokudera had gotten the opportunity to check this personally, but there were some things that were just plain obvious.

"This would be so much easier if you were a chick," Gokudera muttered more to himself than to Hibari. But Hibari heard him anyway.

"It might be easier," the guy practically purred in Gokudera's ear, "But it wouldn't be as much fun." There was a gentle pressure against Gokudera's arm and back as Hibari kept moving closer and closer. Gokudera had to stop walking or else he would have tripped.

Hibari took the opportunity to start fondling Gokudera. His free hand slid up Gokudera's fore arm and over the exposed, sensitive skin of the inner elbow. This move caused shivers to run up Gokudera's spine in a not unpleasant way.

Gokudera decided that it was time to move again. Whatever was going on with Hibari it meant trouble for Gokudera when it was over. Hibari hated crowding of any kind, even if it was himself who was initiating it. Not that that would stop him from punishing Gokudera though...

A loose plan of bribery was beginning to form in Gokudera's brain. If it worked Hibari would return to the sadistic, psychotic, and dangerous bastard he had always been. Gokudera liked it when the unpredictable was reliable. Normal Hibari was a comfort to Gokudera, who carved the fine balance between order and chaos that Hibari provided... Not that he was ever going to tell the bastard that.

Somehow during their trip Hibari had managed to shift Gokudera's grip without him noticing. So now, instead of Gokudera holding onto Hibari's wrist, they were now holding hands. Also, his free hand was becoming more bold. Now, instead of lightly caressing Gokudera's inner elbow, he was firmly groping Gokudera's shoulder and peck area.

Touching really bother Gokudera, even if it was with a guy. He was Italian. He had practically been raised on public displays of affection between everybody. Male and female. Young and old. Pretty and ugly. Whether it was a young couple awkwardly kissing for the first time or an old couple reigniting their passion with a playful grope, he was pretty comfortable with it.

What did bother him was the fact that Hibari, who didn't touch anybody unless he was assaulting them, wasn't just okay with it, he was initiating it. Hell, when they were supporting each other back at Kokuyou Center in order to go take down Mukuro, Hibari had practically decapitated him for getting too close. If it hadn't been for the fact that they were in the condition they were in, and apparently Hibari owing him a favor, Gokudera was pretty sure he wouldn't have left that place alive.

"Alright, we're here," he announced once they arrived at a nondescript house. It looked like every other house on the street. The only exception was that there were mosquitoes hovering but not biting any of the people who passed by. It was something a person would only notice if they knew what to look for.

"Hibari, I need you to do something for me," Gokudera said turning to face the other boy and consequently brushing the roaming hand off his body. Hibari frowned a little, making Gokudera very happy to see that he was at least trying to act normally because he assumed it was due to the order he was about to give. At this rate Shamal might not even be needed, but it was better to get it fixed as soon as possible. "Don't attack the quack."

Hibari either growled or purred in response. Gokudera decided that that was as close to a 'I'll do my best,' as he was going to get from the Prefect. Suicidally, he shook his finger in Hibari's face and gave him a stern look. "I mean it. Don't do it... Or at least wait until after he treats you," he said in a small voice. And because he felt the need to be honest in a smaller voice added, " ... or refuses to treat you," he voice grew stronger again, "You got it?"

Hibari's response was to narrow his eyes and focus on the finger wagging in his face. Quickly Gokudera used said finger to press the door bell, letting Shamal know that he had potential patients. There was a shuffling sound behind the door, then it creaked open. Almost as soon as it opened it tried to slam shut. Gokudera had been expecting this though, so he had already put pushed the door open, causing the door to not properly latch and allowing him to enter the house with Hibari trailing placidly, for him, behind.

"Sis gave him some cookies," Gokudera explained, gesturing towards Hibari, "Then, like a genius, he crushed the bag they came in. It released a gas of some kind and he's been acting weird ever since. Also his palms are kind of sticky."

"His palms are sticky?" Shamal asked confused. Gokudera lifted the hand that Hibari still gripped. When he tried to release the grip, it only tightened, almost painfully. Gokudera sighed and gestured for Hibari to show his other palm to the doctor.

The palm was pink and glistening, but there didn't appear to be an open wound on the hand. Just looking at it made Gokudera question Hibari's sanity. The fact that he was holding hands when his skin was obviously irritated must be driving him nuts. Why didn't he let go?

"This is fascinating," Shamal said, sitting back in his chair, "But what do you want me to do about it? I don't treat guys."

"Bullshit," Gokudera snorted. "You've treated guys before and you'll do it again."

"He's not cute enough, pitiful enough, or in immediate danger. Those are the only reasons I treat guys," Shamal shrugged. "Guess which one you always fall into," he smirked at Gokudera.

"Yeah yeah. I'm cute as a fucking button," Gokudera scoffed, fully intentionally ignoring the barb about his abilities. "How about we make a deal?"

Shamal didn't look interested, but he asked anyway.

"You treat Hibari here and I'll give you one genuine high school girl's home made cookie," Gokudera wheedled, pulling out the package that had been waiting for him in his shoe locker. He had looked inside and it appeared to be full of cookies in the shape of hearts. It made him want to gag at how cute they were.

"I can get those anytime I want. I am the doctor at your school you know."

"You only get the left over cookies from home EC that nobody wanted or pity chocolate for Valentine's Day," Gokudera pointed out ruthlessly. "These however are the real deal. Chock full of fan girl love and devotion."

"And you would give them all to me why?"

"Who said anything about all of them? I offered one..." he trailed off knowing that he had Shamal hooked.

"If I don't get all of them then I won't be able to over look your friend's gender deficiency..." Shamal looked sly.

Gokudera pretended to consider this. In actuality he had been planning on throwing them away once he had returned to Hibari's place. Having Sis as a sister made one wary of accepting food from an unknown source.

"Alright," Gokudera said with feigned reluctance.

The quack reached for the cookies, but Gokudera had lived with him, so he knew some of his tricks. Quickly he snatched the box out of Shamal's reach.

"You get them after you treat Hibari."

Gokudera heard a mosquito approach from his left. He understood the implications of that sound. Shamal was tolerating them and this was just a friendly reminder not to get too cheeky. Gokudera gulped audibly, but stayed firm. If he gave in Shamal would only treat Hibari half way, and there was no telling which way that half would go.

"What seems to be the problem?" Shamal asked after a while, although the sound of the mosquito didn't fade away.

"He's been acting weird," Gokudera shrugged. "He does what he's told and he's acting all cuddly and shit. It's creepy!"

Hibari looked at Gokudera passively before leaning in so that his free hand rested on Gokudera's knee and his lips brushed against Gokudera's ear as he spoke softly, "What are you talking about Breakfast Maker? Any more talk like that and I'll have to bite you," there was no "to death" added to the threat.

Gokudera could feel his face heat up at the comment. Wildly his eyes sought Shamal, who was looking on with a half smile half smirk on his face. Because he didn't want Hibari to actually bite him in front of anyone he mouthed "See what I mean?" to the quack.

Shamal nodded in understanding, but he didn't change his facial expression. Instead he asked to see the remains of the cookies. Once he got them he excused himself.

Hibari took the opportunity to pull Gokudera closer to rest his head on Gokudera's shoulder while his hand messaged it's way up Gokudera's thigh and back down. So far all of Hibari's touches had been PG-13, but Gokudera wondered when and if that would change.

Gokudera decided to stare at the far wall and think of anything else except for what was going on. Sports, except baseball. The 10 and what he was doing. The homework that he needed to do for tomorrow...

He let his mind wonder for a while before the warmth of Hibari's body began to seep into his own. Soon Gokudera felt himself relaxing, and not caring that Hibari was caressing his face and running his hand through Gokudera's hair. Everything seemed pretty okay just then.

Gokudera felt himself being shaken awake from the most comfortable sleep he had had since he was a child. He glared at the hand that was now resting on his shoulder while palming a stick of dynamite. Whoever had done this deserved maiming at the least, if not death.

"You gave me poisoned cookies," Shamal hissed, shaking Gokudera a little more roughly.

"Like I said, chock full of fan girl love and obsession," Gokudera muttered. That was why he wasn't going to eat them in the first place. "What kind of potion did they use this time?"

"Cyanide," Shamal answered dead pan, but maintaining a low voice.

"Who uses cyanide in a love potion?" Gokudera chuckled.

"I think they were trying to kill you," Shamal answered as though speaking to a two year old. "Cyanide is a poison. I told you you gave me poisoned cookies."

"Cyanide's a weak ass poison," Gokudera scoffed. "That shit only gives me a head ache."

"That's because you're a freak of nature with Poison Scorpion Bianchi as an older sister. You've been immune to standard poisons since early childhood because of her. I don't think these cookies came from a school girl crush."

"Well, when you put it that way..." Gokudera drawled sarcastically. "I better let Reborn know that there's been a second attempt."

"Second attempt?" Shamal almost squeaked, his volume raised, but his voice didn't crack.

"Breakfast Maker," a drowsy voice growled above Gokudera's head. It was only then that Gokudera noticed that he wasn't sleeping on a firm couch, but on Hibari, who appeared rather annoyed to be awake.

"Shit," Gokudera said unintentionally. He had heard from the 10th about Hibari's sleeping habits, or lack there of. He had seen the bruises that happened because the bastard woke up through no fault of the 10th's! And here Gokudera was using him as a pillow and talking shop with Shamal! What the hell was wrong with his survival instincts today?!?

"Get off me I have to bite the quack to death," Hibari growled, pushing Gokudera off, but gently.

"Not yet! He hasn't fixed you!" Gokudera blurted out, tackling Hibari, who had paused at the out burst.

Shamal started laughing, annoying Gokudera. Couldn't he see that he wasn't helping the situation?

"He slept off the effects of your sister's cooking already. While you were out I gave him an ointment for his palms. Looks like he kept his promise to you."

Gokudera and Hibari, who had been wrestling during the quack's explanation both stilled. Hibari had made that promise outside of the house. There was no way that Shamal should have heard it.

"How did you know about that?" Hibari asked, eyes narrowing.

"Doctor patient confidentiality," Shamal answered with a strait face.

"I'm the patient," Hibari hissed.

"Which is exactly why my sources are to remain confidential," Shamal smirked.

Hibari glanced at Gokudera as though asking permission. Gokudera knew this wasn't possible but he granted it anyway by releasing Hibari with a slight nod.

"Make sure he doesn't give you that cherry blossom thing again," Gokudera warned while watching for mosquitoes.

"Fie on you Gokudera," Shamal mocked while dodging a blow, "I never repeat the same trick twice. I think this time I'll give him something a little more immediate. How about _Dynamititus_? Can't be in the same space as gunpowder without throwing up. Of course that's are the one that I'm telling you about. I could make it worse. Turn you into a quivering pile of jelly whenever you see anything white and fluffy. Or cause you to breakout into song whenever you experience something you like. Hell I might be feeling generous and allow you to choose the song, as long as it isn't the Namimori Fight Song that is. You'd never shut up if that was the song you chose."

Hibari paused mid swing. He glared at Shamal for several seconds then snorted. "Breakfast Maker. We're done wasting our time here," he said with way more dignity than Gokudera could ever muster if their situation was reversed.

In the very back of Gokudera's mind, where he rarely goes, he thought, 'He's so cool.' Which reminded Gokudera of why he rarely goes to that part of his mind in the first place. That was the part of his mind that tried to convince him that Sis' cooking wasn't as bad as he remembered. Or that Baseball Idiot, Stupid Cow, and Turf Head were not quite as dumb as they acted. It was the part of his mind that almost always let him down when he acted on those thoughts.

Gokudera nodded his understanding and got up. "See ya Quack," he called out cheerfully to Shamal, "Sorry about the cyanide." They were out the door before he could respond.

Hibari and Gokudera walked in silence. It wasn't an awkward silence, but it wasn't exactly comfortable. Gokudera's mind wasn't racing to come up with subjects to fill the void, but it also wasn't relaxed. It was a moment of potential, but Gokudera wasn't sure what the potential was for.

"Shouldn't you inform the Infant about the cyanide?" Hibari asked.

"Right," Gokudera said. He got out the pre-paid emergency cell phone that he used last time and dialed Reborn, without looking at the numbers.

"Ciaossu," Reborn's voice answered on the third ring.

"Hey, guess what," Gokudera said with fake enthusiasm.

"There was another attempt on your life." Reborn stated with equally fake enthusiasm.

"Yup. Cyanide in cookies left in my shoe locker," Gokudera confirmed. "Shamal has them now."

"Why does Shamal have them?" Reborn asked.

"Because I traded with him," Gokudera explained. Then he explained the whole situation so that Reborn would know what was going on. Even though he probably already did. It just made Gokudera feel better when he told Reborn stuff rather than finding out that Reborn knew it all along.

"Got it," Reborn said. "Did you get to speak with Bianchi?"

"No. She left before I came to," Gokudera answered, only a little embarrassed because of his sister complex. "Hey," Gokudera got Hibari's attention, "What did Sis want?"

"She wanted to meet me," Hibari answered. "She also told me to tell someone called "Hayato" that she needed to talk with him about her father."

"Well shit," Gokudera cursed mildly, then he remembered that there was a baby on the other end of the phone. Not that he felt bad about cursing in front of children, it was just that this particular baby could kill him with a thought if he wanted to. "Sorry for the language."

"I've heard worse," Reborn answered in his strait forward manner. "I'll talk to you later. Tsuna has some more training to do."

Gokudera hung up the phone and looked at Hibari. "So," he said with false cheer, "Where to first?" He wasn't going to think about whatever was happening to the man who spawned him.

Hibari eyed Gokudera before answering, "I take it you're Hayato."

"The only person who calls me that is Sis," Gokudera answered. With that he decided that they were going to get his clothes first. He moved in the direction of the closest clothing store with guys clothes. As a lover of fashion he actually had some favored shops, but he wasn't going there. Until this was all over he wasn't going to go to any of his usual spots, except school.

"We're eating," Hibari ordered when they passed an area with several different restaurants and stands. Gokudera just nodded. There was nothing really to say. He was hungry and the thought of shopping on an empty stomach was not appealing.

"Where are we going?" Gokudera asked, mentally choosing his top three picks. There was a ramen stand, which would be his number one, a family restaurant for number two, and a divey looking place with an awesome smell coming from it for his third choice. If he were a normal person he probably would go with the dive first, but his sister complex effected food as well.

"There," Hibari stated, pointing to a Tekesushi, which Gokudera had seen and put firmly in fourth place. The sushi was good, but when he went there he usually ended up seeing Baseball Idiot, who always wanted help with his homework.

Gokudera shrugged and reordered his to do list. Number one, don't think about what was happening with the sperm donor. Number two, eat sushi and try avoiding Baseball Idiot on Baseball Idiot's turf. Number three, get clothes because he didn't want to run around naked and number four, get food so he can maintain his title of Breakfast Maker...

'Wait, what?'


	6. Chapter 6

They sat at the counter of Takesushi and looked at the menu, which was really only there for convenience sake. Anybody who knew anything about eating sushi at this kind of place, where the sushi chef was not just a lackey putting fish on rice, but a dedicated artist, knew that the only phrase they needed to know was, "What's good?"

In fact Hibari didn't even have to know that phrase. Sushi Herbivore, the owner and sushi artist, knew him by sight. After all Namimori was Hibari's town. Everybody knew him and what to expect from him. It was an arrangement that everyone could live with.

Two platters of the best sushi appeared in front of them. Breakfast Maker looked up in confusion before smiling slightly at the old man. Hibari looked up and glared at the pervert.

'Mine,' he told the old man with the power of his mind. The old man must not have heard it though, because he just smiled at Hibari and gave a little wave. Beside him Breakfast Maker poured soy sauce into a dish as if nothing had happened.

They ate in silence. Letting the gentle chatter of their fellow customer's fill their ears. As they finished the last piece of sushi, two more plates appeared. This time with some fruit and a tart. It was odd, because Hibari had never been served desert there before.

He raised an eyebrow at the old pervert, who was smiling at _his_ Breakfast Maker. Hibari must have made a noise because Breakfast Maker looked over at him with a scowl and a raised eyebrow.

"What's eating you?" Breakfast Maker demanded.

"Too much crowding," Hibari muttered. Some people who had also sat at the counter, but many seats away from the duo, got up and moved even further away. He couldn't exactly say the real reason, which was that the Sushi Herbivore was paying too much attention to _his_ Breakfast Maker. Hibari didn't get jealous.

"It'll only get worse once Baseball Idiot comes," Breakfast Maker stated, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth.

Once again Hibari found himself in the situation where he was angry, but he couldn't vent his anger. The perverted sushi herbivore hadn't done anything but provide customer service, which although unasked for, was not punishable. What he wanted to do was bite the man to death, and then give him a lecture about the dangers of lusting after Hibari's Breakfast Maker, but it was not to happen.

There were not many customers now. It was a quiet moment between rushes Hibari assumed. Now that the after school crowd was finished there would be about a half an hour lull before the dinner rush started. Apparently Sushi Herbivore thought that this would be a good time to make his move.

"So, Piano Boy," he said leaning over the counter.

"Don't call me Piano Boy Geezer," Breakfast Maker snarled.

The Sushi Herbivore just laughed. "Takeshi tells me that your mob game has gotten interesting lately."

"Baseball Idiot still thinks it's a game? You must be so proud of his powers of observation," scoffed his Breakfast Maker.

"Let him keep his innocents," Sushi Herbivore mildly scolded. "Yours was taken far too early if I recall."

What was this about Breakfast Maker's innocents? It began to sound like Hibari had a punishable offense after all.

"Obliviousness and innocents are not the same thing."

"Takeshi said that "another team" has tried to eliminate you from the game. And now you're staying with Kyouya Hibari until it's safe."

"Yeah. They got my place," Breakfast Maker confirmed. "They also tried poisoning me just today."

"Oh? What did they try? Thallium? Green mambo venom? One of your sister's new recipes?" sushi herbivore was laughing.

"Cyanide," Breakfast Maker smirked, although there was not humor behind the expression. It was probably the same reason that Hibari himself smirked at worthless herbivores. It was considered "antisocial" to allow your disgust at incompetence to show.

Sushi Herbivore let out such a laugh that customers all around the restaurant and even the other workers turned to stare. Hibari hated all the attention they were getting, so he glared at the pervert until he quieted down.

"Takeshi was right. Your "game" has gotten interesting and stupid."

"Tell me about it," his Breakfast Maker shook his head as he took a bite of the tart. "This is shit that might have worked when I was eight, but now it's just sad."

"Why are you talking to this herbivore with such familiarity?" Hibari asked, finally getting tired of the conversation. How is it that everybody they had met today knew so much about his Breakfast Maker?

The Sushi Herbivore just laughed, "I think somebody's jealous," Sushi Herbivore got a double glare for this joke. One from Hibari and the other from his Breakfast Maker. Sushi Herbivore just ignored it and answered the question, "I used to babysit Piano Boy here before I settled down to raise Takeshi."

"Don't call me Piano Boy, Geezer!" his Breakfast Maker shouted.

"Babysit?" Hibari asked suspiciously.

"Yeah, I worked freelance among the Families. Piano Boy here was the last job I took before I retired."

"Retired from what?"

"The mob game of course," Sushi Herbivore laughed. Hibari heard the door open and close behind him.

"I'm home," the Baseball Herbivore called out.

"Just in time," Sushi Herbivore called. "Get cleaned up and start helping with the dinner rush."

After that the crowding became too much for Hibari, so he and his Breakfast Maker left. They stopped at the closest department store where his Breakfast Maker bitched about the selection, or lack there of. Finally he grudgingly chose some clothes that looked "the least like something Baseball Idiot would wear."

Once all of his clothing issues were taken care of, they headed to the nearest grocery store. This is the first time since Hibari was very young that he had been to one. He remembered them being much less annoying. Now several displays had motion detectors, so when you passed they shouted at you. Also, the music that was played over the speakers left much to be desired.

"How long are we going to be here?" he demanded. He was sorely tempted to forget the food and just pick up something on the way to school the next morning.

"Not long," Breakfast Maker replied, not taking his eyes of some sort of fruit that he held in his hand. "You act like you've never been grocery shopping before."

Hibari remained silent. It was true, but he wasn't about to admit it. The subject was dropped and Hibari suffered the rest of the shopping trip in silence.

Finally after arguing with each other and with other customers, dealing with an incompetent cashier, and carrying the groceries home in the dark, they were finished. They stumbled into Hibari's apartment and dropped the bags onto the kitchen table.

"I'm hungry," Hibari stated. Knowing full well that he would be fed once those words were uttered. That was just the way the universe worked.

Breakfast Maker sighed. "It'll take me a few minutes to put the groceries away. Then you need to do the dishes."

Hibari's eyebrow and dander rose at this statement. "_I _have to do the dishes?" he asked in a silky smooth voice that was more like a warning rattle from a rattle snake than a question.

"Unless you want nothing but shards of glass filling your sink, then yes," Breakfast Maker answered, not bothering to look at Hibari.

"Is that a threat?" Hibari was amusedly annoyed by the prospect of there being a threat to his dishes. Of course this would have to be punished, but it just went to show how amusing his Breakfast Maker could be. If it were anyone else threatening his dishes he would just bite them to death.

"Nope. It's a fact," Breakfast Maker answered, his head buried in Hibari's refrigerator. "I can't do dishes."

Hibari had never heard of this. He had heard many people saying "won't" to chores, but never "can't." "Define can't," Hibari ordered, rightfully suspicious.

"Can't," Breakfast Maker stated, "unable to/does not have the ability to do something. It also means to forbid, but that's not applicable to the situation. Unless you have plastic plates, which you don't, I _can't_ wash the dishes."

Throughout the whole conversation he never stopped putting groceries away. There was no hesitance in his movements nor in his speech to indicate that he was lying. However this just seemed too stupid.

"Why?" Hibari demanded. Anyone who knew there way around the kitchen like his Breakfast Maker did should be able to do dishes. However Hibari had never known him to admit to a weakness. If this was a lie to get out of doing a stupid chore, then it was a damn stupid use of a lie.

Breakfast Maker shrugged, "Probably for the same reason that Sis can't cook. Only I'm not deluded about it and it can't really be used as a weapon." Hibari turned towards the sink and began the dishes. If he found out that this was a lie, Breakfast Maker would spend to rest of his life being punished for this. Maybe Hibari would just keep him chained up in the kitchen, only letting him loose for the discipline sessions that he would have rightly deserved.

The image of his Breakfast Maker chained to the oven, beaten but not broken flashed through his brain. Then the image combined with the fantasy from this afternoon. Now there was the picture of the beaten but not broken Italian wearing nothing but an apron and a glare...

It was probably a good thing that Hibari was facing the wall, and not a certain silver haired, foul mouthed, Italian, otherwise he would have to bite him to death. Why? Because he definitely would have noticed the blush that was trying to rise to Hibari's cheeks and asked about it.

"Stuff's put away. What do you want?"

"Food," Hibari said.

"... Smart ass."

Hibari smirked in triumph. Apparently he was getting a nickname other than Psycho. Had he been promoted or demoted? Must be promoted, because demotion only happened to other people.

"Is that your final answer?"

Hibari considered his options. Eventually he nodded.

"Fine. Then no bitching that it's not what you ordered."

Hibari glared over at Breakfast Maker. He was warring with himself about what to discipline him for, the order or the accusation of bitching. He decided that he could decide that later. Now he needed to discipline his Breakfast Maker, but not too much otherwise he would have to wait to get fed.

He gave a swift punch to Breakfast Maker's head before turning back to the sink. "I don't bitch," he said by way of explanation.

Later that evening Hibari found himself soaking up to his neck in hot water. For the first time since he moved into the apartment it felt too small. He had made sure that his apartment would have space, because he hated being confined, when he got the place. But now... there was something wrong...

For one, he was very aware of the fact that just down the hall there was another human being, who was watching the stupidest television show on the face of the earth. It was about monster sightings in and around Japan.

This in itself was not the stupid part. What was stupid was that Breakfast Maker was talking to the television show as though it would respond. Mostly it was cursing at all the fake out sightings. But every once and a while he would start cursing in excitement, because that particular sighting confirmed his theory.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. Hibari ignored it. Whatever his Breakfast Maker wanted it could wait. Right now he was enjoying the way the hot water seeped into his bones, coaxing muscles into relaxing. He had had a stressful day and as a rule, Hibari didn't have stressful days, so he felt that he deserved this soak in the tub.

There was a second knock, and a vein on Hibari's forehead began to throb. Maybe if he ignored it it would go away. A third knock threw that theory out the window.

"Oi, are you dead?" Breakfast Maker demanded. Hibari growled deep in his throat. There was a pause before a fourth knock sounded and another stupid question was asked, "Was that the sound of you drowning?"

With a savage curse Hibari got out of the tub and stomped over to the door. "What?" he snarled as he swung the door open.

On the other side was a startled Italian. This didn't last very long however, or at least it didn't until the Italian got a good look at Hibari, who was naked and soaking wet of course. Then the Italian's cheeks turned an interesting shade of red as his eyes latched onto not so little Hibari for a second before snapping back up to Hibari's smirking face.

Hibari leaned in close to his Breakfast Maker, brushing his hair along his Breakfast Maker's cheek. The silent inhalation of breath his Breakfast Maker made was very satisfying. If Hibari wanted to he could probably bite the intriguing flesh right behind his Breakfast Maker's pierced ear. He could even leave a mark that only he would know about.

In fact that was exactly what he wanted to do...

"Is this what you wanted Breakfast Maker?" Hibari purred, before lowering his head the fraction of an inch that was needed to mark the smooth pale flesh.

On a shaky breath his Breakfast Maker's head jerked once. Before his body stiffened. "Don't call me Breakfast Maker," Breakfast Maker answered breathily, a spark of annoyance in his voice. Hibari just chuckled.

His Breakfast Maker's scent was everything that Hibari expected and more. Tobacco, gun powder, and something else. Something fleeting but strong. Like smoke with a touch of spice and musk. He wanted more.

Hibari's lips passed over the spot as they parted. Then his teeth scraped over the spot. Once, twice, thri...

"Kyouya-san, I came over earlier..." a voice trailed off. Apparently Kusakabe wasn't expecting the site in front of him.

"Uh... you have some company..." Breakfast Maker said unsteadily.

Reluctantly Hibari lifted his head and faced Kusakabe. "What do you want?" he demanded, placing hands on his hips. His question was only met with silence.

Kusakabe did not turn an interesting shade of red. Instead his face seemed to loose all color. He knew that he was going to be punished for interrupting. His impatience would be his down fall.

Hibari smirked at Breakfast Maker as he leaned close to him once more. In a low voice so that Kusakabe wouldn't hear he whispered, "We'll finish this later." Then he grabbed the bathrobe hanging behind his Breakfast Maker and wrapped it around himself.

Breakfast Maker just gaped at him as he passed by. "You should take a bath while I deal with this," Hibari ordered, looking back over his shoulder. Breakfast Maker's face changed from shocked to annoyed, but the blush that Hibari had put on it was still there.

Hibari felt the need to spice things up with a wink at Breakfast Maker. When Breakfast Maker saw this, he flipped Hibari off and began muttering under his breath about revenge. Hibari was looking forward to it.


	7. Chapter 7

Just a warning, there is a lot more cursing in this chapter than in previous chapters. As always please R&R.

Gokudera was making breakfast in silence. Normally he would be cursing quietly at the food, insulting the plants/animals it came from, or just belittling it into tasting good, but this morning was different. He lacked the energy it took to verbally abuse the food. The spark that gave him the nickname Smoking Bomb was out.

There were three important signs to look for when trying to determine Gokudera's mood. The first sign is the noise level of his cooking. The more vocal and verbally abusive he was, the better his mood. Yesterday there had been a continual stream of curses directed both at the food and at Hibari, for his lack of selection. This morning he hadn't said anything, something that had never happened before. He didn't even grunt when the water wasn't heating as quickly as he would have liked, hiss at the fact that Hibari's knives should have been sharper, or even yelp when he had slammed the back of his head on the underside of the cabinet when he was getting out a pot. Even on his worse days he still made noise.

The second sign was that he didn't start fights. Gokudera was by no means a cheerful person. He enjoyed fighting and yelling and cursing far too much to ever be considered "cheerful." Most people wouldn't even accuse him of being nice, so when he came across people who were friendly or happy or whatever, he started a fight and they ended up getting along just fine. But when he wasn't happy, Gokudera didn't want to get along with people, which usually ended up making things difficult for him later on. Some people assumed that because he didn't try to bite their head off it meant that he liked them.

The intensity of the fight was a measure of how much he liked that person, with a few exceptions. The 10th was an exception. The 10th was his best friend and his boss, so he was put in a whole new category of obedience and agreeableness. Also Reborn and Sis were exceptions, because they take fighting too seriously sometimes.

So far he was avoiding a fight with Hibari by making a breakfast that Hibari would eat without complaint. Instead of making french toast, like he had planned, he was making grilled fish with rice and miso soup. Something so traditionally Japanese that Hibari couldn't complain. There would be no argument over the contents of the meal. No suspicion that changed to surprise that changed to acceptance all within a millisecond. All the agreeableness of the meal was ticking him off, but not igniting the spark.

The third sign was slightly different from the other signs, because it had to do with the past, where as the other signs were about the present. The third sign was the quality of sleep he had gotten the night before. Gokudera didn't trust sleep. At an early age he had learned to sleep with one eye open, because a person was most vulnerable when they slept. So, when all was right with the world, he slept lightly. Waking up easily to strange noises but also going back to sleep easily. When something was off, he slept deeply. Last night he had slept so deeply that he missed a call from Sis, telling him that she wanted to talk with him.

The biggest problem was that he didn't know what was going on. He just knew that something was off. He wasn't angry or sad. If he were feeling angry he would still be cursing, even if it were just mentally. If he were sad he'd be playing air piano with his spare hand, which was resting gently on the counter by the stove. He wasn't happy, because nothing would be wrong if he were happy.

He felt almost... lost. Like he was missing something.

The worst part about it all, was that because of the emotional ambiguity he couldn't fix the problem. He didn't know what it would take to fix the problem, so the signs were making the problem worse. It was stupid really. All he wanted was to loudly make a breakfast that would piss Hibari off, but that eventually Hibari would accept.

He liked seeing that acceptance. He liked the fact that Hibari would start out pissed off that he wasn't getting a traditional Japanese meal. But after he took that first taste, it was so worth it to see that split millisecond of surprise that it was actually good. Those milliseconds of emotion on Hibari's face were the things that Gokudera always looked forward to, and now he would get his own personal millisecond, except he wasn't happy, so he wasn't looking for a fight, so he wasn't getting the millisecond!

Hibari walked into the kitchen and grunted something at Gokudera, keeping Gokudera from examining his train of thoughts too closely. Normally Gokudera would say something sarcastic in an attempt to make Hibari's eyebrow twitch, but because of emotional ambiguity on his part, Gokudera smiled.

"Good morning," he greeted, not quite cheerfully, but definitely not hostilely. Under Hibari's close scrutiny he placed breakfast, rice, grilled fish, and miso soup, on the table and poured some green tea into the awaiting tea cups.

Hibari seemed suspicious. There was nothing that Gokudera could do however. Any attempts on his part to relieve that suspicion would be met with hostility and anger. That would make Gokudera happy, but he didn't have the energy to start the fight.

Fuck, he thought as he stirred his miso soup and took a sip. After three or four bites of his breakfast Gokudera glanced up at Hibari, who still hadn't touched his breakfast. Instead he was staring at Gokudera as though he had grown a second head.

"Do I have something on my face?" Gokudera asked, instead of the usual "_What?_" He must have been feeling better because he managed to add some snark to the question.

Hibari remained silent. Gokudera shrugged and continued eating. If it weren't for the offness he felt, he would have pressed further and possibly gotten in a fight by now. Then he would have to clean himself up before heading to school, which might have lead to another fight or a repetition of yesterdays walk to school... Maybe he should rethink this whole how he got along with psychos thing...

"Who are you?" Hibari demanded when Gokudera was about half way through his meal.

"What do you mean?" Gokudera asked demanded, almost giddy with relief that he was maybe starting a fight.

Hibari didn't explain, he just started eating his breakfast. Gokudera shrugged, again, and continued eating. His giddiness left him and he returned to his sparkless state.

The rest of breakfast, getting ready, and the walk to school were all done in silence. It was not the usually comfortable silence of having nothing much to say. It was the awkward silence of having something to say, but not knowing how to say it.

The silence made Gokudera feel antsy, which was a welcome diversion from... whatever, but it still meant that he wasn't going to fight any time soon. He almost wanted to explain what was going on, but if he tried he would just sound crazy.

_"Hey Hibari, so the whole reason that I've been getting along with you is because I'm feeling weird." _Sure, that would go over real well. Hibari probably didn't even have feelings, other than contempt, so the whole concept of "feeling weird" would totally escape him.

At school Gokudera waited in the yard next to Hibari. The 10th hadn't shown up yet and he still wasn't allowed to wonder around by himself. Stupid assassination attempts.

The silence seemed to be effecting Hibari as much as if was effecting Gokudera. He was still as always, but he seemed to vibrate in place. When he corrected wayward students, he was brutally effective, to the point where one kid started crying when Hibari glanced at him. It was fucking strange. Hibari had always been a bit scary to the students, but none had ever burst into tears due to making eye contact with him before.

Gokudera finally had to say something. "Is everything alright?" he asked, instead of the usual, "_What the fuck's your problem, Asshole?" _If only he could.

Hibari glared at Gokudera as though he had voiced his inner thoughts.

"I'll take that as a no," Gokudera said, almost sarcastically. This time he didn't let his hopes get too high about that. He was sick and tired of being...whatever. He didn't need an emotional roller coaster added to the mix.

Hibari grunted, before rounding on a gaggle of fan girls scooting closer to the two of them.

"I see crowding," he said in a sing song voice. It was pretty creepy, but it kept the fan girls out of Gokudera's way. In the mood he was in right now, he might not be able to defend himself against their attacks. He might have to eat lunch with them all because he couldn't start a fight with them or some other idiot as a distraction.

"Hayato," Sis said from behind him. Gokudera froze, he really didn't want to deal with his sister complex right now. Slowly he looked over his shoulder, starting with his sister's forehead his gaze moved down her face. She was wearing sunglasses.

"Sis," Gokudera greeted cautiously. She might take those sunglasses off at any time. "What's up?"

"We need to talk," she said seriously. "Privately." She looked at and dismissed Hibari within seconds, which Hibari definitely didn't like.

"Privacy is in short supply at the moment," Gokudera explained, smugly. It probably had to do with the sperm donor, so he wanted to put it off as long as possible "Can't this wait until after the attempts stop?"

"It's about Father," Sis said, as though that would make everything make sense.

_ Bingo_

"What does he want?" Gokudera asked coldly. His family was messed up, he wasn't about to welcome the sperm donor with open arms after the shit he tried to pull before.

"This should be said in private," Sis pressed.

"Sorry," Gokudera said, even though he wasn't sorry, "No can do. I have to be with a guardian at all times."

"It can't wait," Sis tried again.

Gokudera, for the first time since the fiasco started was glad that he needed to be babysat. He didn't want to have anything to do with the sperm donor and Sis knew it. Anything to put off having to deal with the sperm donor was a good thing.

"My hands are tied," he said, lifting his hands while pressing his wrists together. "Is it really important?"

"Yes. It might have to do with the attempts."

This made Gokudera pause. Not wanting to deal with the sperm donor was one thing, But getting information about his would be killers, now that was important. He glanced at Hibari, who was watching their exchange with apathy. He showed no interest, but it was clear that he was paying attention. It was also clear that he wasn't going to let Gokudera go off on his own with Sis.

"Fine," Gokudera said, "But Hibari's going to have to be there." Hibari didn't even blink.

Sis raised an eyebrow. "Hayato, this is very confidential information that I have."

"Who's he going to tell?" Gokudera demanded.

"He's not family," Sis tried to argue.

"He's a guardian."

"He's not _family._"

"I need a guardian with me at all times. There's no getting around it," Gokudera replied calmly.

"Why him?" Sis demanded, glaring at Hibari. Hibari's face remained blank even though they had been talking about him as though he weren't there.

"Because I don't want to bother the 10th and he can keep his trap shut," Gokudera said bluntly.

"Fine. Come along."

For the first time Hibari spoke. "You have 15 minutes. Then we leave."

Sis looked pissed. She looked like she wanted shove his face into some cake, which if it were anybody but Sis, would be funny. Instead Gokudera became seriously concerned for Hibari's safety. Sis' cooking was deadly.

"Classes start soon. Tardiness is not tolerated."

Sis continued to eye him disdainfully, but she seemed to agree. She lead them around the corner, into an alcove with no one in it. She did a quick visual scan for listening devices, then started.

"Father remarried."

"So that makes her Wife Number 4?" Gokudera asked. After the woman he thought was his mother died, he had started numbering the sperm donors wives.

"Yes. But that's not important. The fact that she's pregnant is."

"So he has another kid to screw up. What's the big deal?"

"Number 4 wants her child to be heir," Sis said with a voice of importance.

Sis wasn't the heir because she was female, and their family was old fashioned like that. Gokudera wasn't the heir because he was illegitimate.

"How's that my problem?" Gokudera asked, checking his watch. 10 minutes until their time was up.

"Right now, you're the heir."

"No I'm not. I'm illegitimate," Gokudera argued.

"Mother adopted you. It was the only way to save your life."

"So?" Gokudera already knew all this. That was what made his anger with the sperm donor so poisonous. He caused Gokudera to loose both his mother and his mom.

"So, legally you are a child of Father and Mother's marriage. You are the heir," Sis explained as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

"..." Gokudera said as Sis' words sunk in. So, the attempts on his life were that of number 4, who was having a baby, and wanted to make sure that she got was she deserved.

"It's time," Hibari stated flatly, hand on Gokudera's shoulder.

Gokudera froze, but didn't jump, in surprise. Hibari rarely voluntarily touched people, unless it was for the purpose of beating them senseless. When he did he was usually under the influence of drugs, or physically moving them to a more convenient location so that he could beat them senseless. Needless to say, Gokudera was a little confused.

"I still have 5 minutes," Sis spat, glaring at the cloud guardian.

"Is there more?" Hibari asked coldly.

"That was it," Sis admitted.

"Then it's time," he growled before pushing Gokudera away. He did it gently by Gokudera's standards and possibly his own. Gokudera didn't fall or stumble but he was very aware of the fact that Hibari was guiding him away from his sister. It was a unique experience.

Even though Sis was now unable to see them, Hibari's hand remained on Gokudera's shoulder. They continued the walk around the building in silence, ignoring the questioning glances of the people around them.

Gokudera walked blindly, not really noticing or caring about where he was going. In the corner of his mind he was reminded that he had class and a worried 10th to get to. He had thought that when he ran away from home that he would no longer be considered the heir. He was an emancipated minor, wasn't that the same as being disinherited only in reverse?

Eventually they stopped. Gokudera looked up and saw that they were standing in front of his classroom. The 10th was sitting in his seat, laughing at something Baseball Idiot said. Turf head's sister stood next to the 10th listening attentively to the conversation, while her grumpy friend stood there trying to look important.

For what seemed like hours Gokudera stared at the scene in the classroom. Everything was normal, even when his world had been shattered. What he thought was true, that he didn't have any family except the one he made, that he had left his past behind, that he would never have to deal with the sperm donor ever again. All of it was a lie.

The family that he thought he had was getting crowded with intruders. When he had left for Japan he hadn't expected to have a family ever again. Then he met the 10th. He was immediately accepted by the 10th and his mother. The Sis showed up and became part of the family too. One by one his family grew, whether Gokudera liked it or not, but in the end he usually liked it. Now there was an intruder. One who wasn't connected to the 10th and only barely connected to Sis. Yet this intruder was acting as though she had the right to interfere with his life. To fuck with him and scare the rest of his family. Fuck that.

There was a small attempt at a spark in the dark void of his soul, but Gokudera ignored it for the moment.

His past could rot in hell. Due to his sperm donor's actions Gokudera had lost both his mom and his mother. He hadn't known it at the time, but the woman he thought of as his mom wasn't. But she loved and raised him as though they were connected through blood. When he had nightmares she was there to comfort him. When Sis force fed him her cookies, Mom was the one who waited through the chills and delirium when the sperm donor just smiled at him for the great piano performance. She was the one who died slowly and painfully trying to bring his little brother or sister into the world.

Then on his birthday, he found out that it was a lie. That the woman who smiled at hims so sweetly and gave him the hugs and kisses that no one else did, was not his mother. His mother was sad young woman who visited him on his birthday and introduced him to the piano. His mother was the woman he only saw once a year, but she always brought him a present and always listened to him play the piano the way he wanted to play it. She was also the woman that ended up driving off of a cliff on a strait piece of road with out a sign of struggle. Gokudera knew that she had been killed and that it was all the sperm donor's fault.

There was a second attempt. This one was stronger. This one was also ignore.

The fucking sperm donor! It wasn't enough that the sperm donor ruined his life or Sis' life. The fucker had to go and attempt ruining a third or possibly fourth life. He was such a selfish prick like that. He wouldn't even let Gokudera go, even though Gokudera ran away and publicly disowned his father. Now Gokudera was going to have to deal with him again, which was something that he didn't want to do .

"That son of a bitch, cock sucking whore!" Gokudera hissed viciously through his teeth. Only Hibari must have heard him because the scene in the classroom didn't change.

Gokudera no longer felt lost. He felt angry and excited and... hopeful oddly enough. He was going to confront his past and put it back where it belonged. He was going to move on with his life and become a better person, or some shit like that. He was going to kick the sperm donors ass.

Gokudera turned around and grinned ferrally back at Hibari, who was watching him with mild interest. "We got some errands to run and then I'm making french toast for dinner," Gokudera taunted.

Hibari's eyes narrowed dangerously, "French toast is not for dinner," he purred. If Gokudera didn't know any better, he would have said that Hibari was enjoying the confrontation.

Gokudera didn't back down. His grin just got bigger. He had his spark back, there was nothing that he couldn't do. Even if it was pulling Hibari's proverbial tail. "I'm making french toast. You're going to eat it and you're going to like it."

Hibari's head tilted to the side as he studied the storm guardian. Slowly he lifted his hand and pressed a finger to Gokudera's chest and pushed. Gokudera stumbled back into the classroom, but didn't fall.

"Don't be late for class, Breakfast Maker," Hibari stated flatly as the bell rang.

Gokudera just smirked and called out, "Don't call me Breakfast Maker," before finding his seat and waiting for the class to start.


	8. Chapter 8

So, I was asked when this story takes place in the time line. And because someone asked it I'm just assuming that many people were wondering. If not, you can skip the next few sentences and go strait to the story.

Because I started writing this around the time they were figuring out just how messed up the future was, I decided to place it before they did their time hoping, but after they won the battle for the rings. Anyway, thank you for reading my story and asking questions. And without further ado, the story...

Hibari stared out onto the school grounds from his perch on the roof. Hibird had just nestled down into his hair, and a slight breeze was making his jacket flutter lightly behind him. Hibari didn't bother acknowledging these things. Instead he kept an eye on the herbivores eating their lunches with varying degrees of enjoyment.

Some brought lunches from home, all packed neatly in a box and wrapped in a colorful napkin. Others carried plastic bags from the local convenience store. Still there were others who didn't bring a lunch. Instead they went to the cafeteria and brought their food out on a tray. But there was one student who caught his eye.

His Breakfast Maker's lunch box was very spartan in appearance. There was no colorful napkin, or even any napkin. The box itself was just a boring gray in color and the chopsticks were brown. The inside of the box looked equally boring. Rice sat next to some meat and vegetables. There was no dash of bright green or shocking red.

Had Hibari not known better, he would have assumed that the Breakfast Maker's lunch was bland and boring by the look of it. However, he had a duplicate of the lunch box and contents sitting next to him. Well, the box was next to him. The contents were in his stomach.

An upgrade for his Breakfast Maker was in order. However Meal Maker, which was technically correct, did not have the same ring to it. Possibly he should call him Chef or Cook. But those names seemed too impersonal and ordinary. His Breakfast Maker was anything but ordinary.

What was it that Sawada called him? Gokudera-kun...? That wasn't quite right. How about what his sister called him. Hayato... Too controversial. Only his sister called him that if her recalled. Hibari's new name for his Breakfast Maker had to be something better.

Maybe only half an upgrade?

Hibari gave the Kyouyan equivalent of a goofy smile at his thoughts. Which for other people appeared to be a smirk with slightly less teeth than usual. In fact, had there been any other person on the roof, they would have backed away quickly and scurried through the nearest exit at the sight of it.

Hibari sat on the roof contemplating his Breakfast Maker for a few moments, before something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. At the entrance of the school was a black car with tinted windows. It was doing it's best to not attract attention to the fact that it was heavier than the average car due to the bullet proof armor that it was made of.

Some serious looking men in suits stepped out of the car as nonchalantly as any one could while they gripped a gun that was hidden under their suit jackets. When it was clear that they were not about to be ambushed by the herbivorous middle schoolers, they nodded simultaneously and faced the car.

Nothing happened.

Hibari smirked at their incompetence. Obviously their boss had gotten out of the car while they were looking for trouble. Their boss probably also took care of any danger that awaited him while he was at it.

The men did not panic, much to Hibari's disappointment. Instead they looked resigned, as though they were used to being practically useless. Slowly they looked around again. This time it was not trouble that they sought.

Hibari allowed his gaze to wander in search of their wayward leader. He didn't recognize these men, so he knew that this was either a new boss who didn't know better than to invade Hibari's territory or a foreign boss. Hopefully it was the new boss. The life of disciplining herbivores could be tedious at times.

There. Walking towards his Breakfast Maker's group was an older man. He had gray hair with a matching mustache, and deep lines around his eyes and mouth. He wore an expensive Italian black suit with black tie. If it weren't for the fact that he walked like a fighter and wore a watch that cost about as much as a private island might have, he could have been mistaken for a salary man.

The man continued making his way towards the group. It was very clear that they were his goal. Hibari watched with suspicion. Another of Sawada's foreign weirdos. Hopefully this one wouldn't be as annoying as the blond Italian herbivore with the domination fetish.

The man stopped just behind Breakfast Maker, then hesitated. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say. Eventually Breakfast Maker said something, without looking around and the man jolted. The area around Breakfast Maker was very tense. Even Sawada and the other herbivores looked uncomfortable.

More words were exchanged, although Breakfast Maker continued to avoid looking at the man. Sawada and the other herbivores looked more and more uncomfortable, and even neighboring groups were beginning to take interest.

'To approach or not to approach?' Hibari wondered as he watched the exchange. On the one hand, the scene below was interfering with the discipline of the students. On the other hand, it really had nothing to do with him. This was about Breakfast Maker and he could handle himself.

The exchange didn't last much longer. Slowly Breakfast Maker gathered his lunch box, presumably so Sawada and the other herbivores would have time to get out of their stupor. Then, without turning to face the new foreigner, he walked away. Sawada looked lost, like he didn't know what to do, but then he frantically bowed to the man and followed Breakfast Maker. The others followed suit.

Hibari gave a final glare to the man, before leaving the roof to dispense discipline. Out of the corner of his eye he swore that the man was glaring back at him. So far the man's business on Namimori was personal. If it ever became professional, then Hibari would have to deal with him. Until then, he was not important.

Hibari did not see his Breakfast Maker until the end of school at the agreed upon spot. There was a cigarette in his mouth, but it wasn't lit. Instead he was gnawing on the filter and glaring down the street. The object of Breakfast Maker's ire was a man in a suit standing next to a vending machine and trying to blend in despite the fact that he was foreign and staring intently at the school. Was the idiot so thick that he didn't realize that he had been spotted?

"He might be a threat to the school," Hibari offered. It was as close to interest as he was willing to show at this time.

"Naw," Breakfast Maker scoffed. "He's just a chump. The guy leaning against the gate is the one to really look out for."

Hibari glanced in the direction of the school gate. True enough there was a boy around their age leaning against the gate. He was wearing the uniform of a local high school, so Hibari had assumed that he had business with another student. He should have known better. The guy was not looking at the foreigner, while everyone else at least glanced at him, and he was doing everything in his power to keep Breakfast Maker in view at all times, while not looking like that was what he was doing.

"I almost missed him, except we grew up in the same town. He used to help his parents at this flower shop I would pass sometimes on the way to the toy store," Breakfast Maker explained, giving no more than a passing glance at the other boy. "The Sperm Donor probably thought that I wouldn't remember him because that flower shop wasn't any trouble."

There was the sound of hissing as one of the many secret chamber doors the Infant had lying around the school opened. Hibari glared at the blatant abuse of school property.

"The one you need to be wary of is the one that you don't see coming," the Infant said cheerfully.

"Who did I miss?" Breakfast Maker asked very seriously.

The Infant smirked while scanning the crowd, but he didn't respond. Breakfast Maker did the same. Apparently Breakfast Maker spotted somebody, because he cursed softly and crushed his unlit cigarette tip on the bottom of his shoe before stalking off away from the front gate.

The Infant also left, following the Breakfast Maker. Hibari shrugged, but kept an eye on them from where he stood. As long as Breakfast Maker was in his view or the view to the Sawada's herbivores, he would be safe. The baseball herbivore went trotting after the two, making Hibari turn away.

A few minutes later there was the sound of an explosion and an infant sized body went flying through the air with smoke trailing behind it. Hibari only noticed it because it wasn't the annoying cow brat that usually went flying.

Breakfast Maker returned smelling strongly of gunpowder. He looked both more relaxed and more annoyed. He was probably annoyed because the baseball herbivore was laughing obnoxiously at him.

"Can we go now?" Breakfast Maker demanded.

Hibari didn't even glance at him when he denied the request. His duty wasn't complete.

The baseball herbivore was trying to coax Breakfast Maker into a conversation about something. Breakfast Maker stood next to Hibari, looking at everything except the baseball herbivore. Finally the baseball herbivore must have said something that got to Breakfast Maker.

"Killing intent!" Breakfast Maker yelled, spinning around to face the grinning baseball herbivore. "That's how I knew and if you weren't such a moron you would have figured it out too!"

Hibari raised an eye brow in a query that he would not voice. Breakfast Maker rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, as though he were being put upon greatly. Hibari's eyes narrowed in warning.

"Reborn's killing intent doesn't waver."

The baseball herbivore didn't look any more enlightened. But Hibari understood. The infant was always ready to kill someone.

"Besides, if I was wrong then all this bullshit would be over," Breakfast Maker groused. There was an awkward pause as everyone they contemplated the truth of those words.

The baseball herbivore laughed, "That kid couldn't kill you."

Both Breakfast Maker and Hibari ignored that little bit of idiocy from the herbivore. The Infant could kill anyone/thing he wanted.

"Sis would do it," Breakfast Maker answered seriously. The baseball herbivore laughed some more, until he realized that he was the only one who thought the hypothetical situation was funny. Breakfast Maker's sister was a passionate, powerful, and above all scary woman who loved The Infant beyond all reason.

Hibari grew tired of the exchange. "Leave," he ordered. The baseball herbivore chuckled as though there was a joke. Hibari was beginning to think that he had taken too many baseballs to the head. "Now," Hibari expanded upon his first command.

Breakfast Maker shrugged and turned away. He was passing the now gaping baseball herbivore when Hibari grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"Not you," he explained when Breakfast Maker gave him an arched look. Breakfast Maker just rolled his eyes. The baseball herbivore left after an awkward chuckle.

For a while they stood in silence as Hibari watched the last of the herbivores leave the school. Then he went on patrol for the stragglers. There were always a few who thought that they could loiter on the schools sacred grounds.

Hibari could tell his Breakfast Maker was getting impatient. They were starting their second round of patrol around the school, just to be on the safe side. They had already interrupted two herbivores sucking face in an empty classroom, three playing video games in the school's computer lab, and one just sitting in the hallway reading porn.

Hibari knew that his Breakfast Maker preferred doing things at his own pace. Unless of course the Sawada herbivore was involved. For him his Breakfast Maker would take bend over backwards and never complain.

Needless to say Hibari was glad that he got the other Gokudera. The one who could turn 'Please pass the salt,' into a declaration of war. The one who could blow up, both figuratively and literally, at the slightest of perceived insults. The one who didn't quit just because he might get hurt.

If he wanted unending compliance and adoration he would just use Kusakabe. He got enough of that during school. When he went home for the day he wanted fire and passion. He wanted-

"Let's go already," Gokudera demanded, interrupting Hibari's thoughts. "We're the only ones here. Do you gotta kick us out before we can leave?"

Hibari sniffed haughtily. "You weren't this impatient yesterday."

"Yesterday I thought someone was _actually_ trying to kill me. Today I found out it's just the sperm donors way of trying to get me back home."

"Ah," Hibari acknowledged. It sounded stupid, but who was he to comment.

"Yeah," Gokudera agreed. Vaguely Hibari began to wonder when Breakfast Maker became Gokudera, but Gokudera continued, "So we got to go meet with somebody. I'll finish explaining there."

"An explanation seems unnecessary. Your father is using a real attempt on your life to make you want to go home by continuing to make you believe that there is still an immanent threat to you life," Hibari said calmly.

Gokudera grinned hugely. "Pretty much. Thank god you aren't a total moron. I almost tried explaining this to Baseball Idiot, but he was just grinning and 'goshing' and shit. The 10th got it right away though. Didn't even have to say anything."

Hibari knew who the 10th was, and he highly doubted that Sawada really understood the situation. It was probably more likely that had panicked and said 'EH?' before the infant took him aside and explained it in a way that he could understand while Gokudera wasn't looking.

"So yeah," Gokudera sighed impatiently. "Let's go meet with the guy to take care of this." Gokudera hefted his school bag more firmly onto his shoulder.

Hibari just shrugged and made his way to the front gate. Once they were off school grounds Hibari started to lead the way. From behind him he heard Gokudera make a noise that sounded like something between a sigh and a grunt. Then he was next to Hibari, where they promptly started arguing about directions.

They bickered, argued, fought, and laughed the whole way there. Sometimes they would be standing really close, trying to bodily shove the other into everyday obstacles like lamp posts and on coming traffic. Other times they would spring apart their favored weapon at the ready. There were even a few moments of silence, where they just walked together, tolerating the existence of the other. It was one of the best times Hibari had had in a long time that didn't involve biting someone to death.

Then they arrived at their destination. Which Hibari immediately recognized.

"Why _here?_"


End file.
